


Of Monsters and Men

by niceforwhvt



Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Avatar & Benders Setting, F/F, F/M, Fire Nation (Avatar), Gen, Ursa (Avatar) is a Good Parent
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-05-30
Updated: 2020-05-31
Packaged: 2021-03-03 01:07:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 9,777
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24462499
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/niceforwhvt/pseuds/niceforwhvt
Summary: Before she was mother to Zuko and Azula, she was a brilliant young woman who had to navigate the complicated politics of the Fire Nation royal family. The story of Ursa.
Relationships: Ozai/Ursa (Avatar)
Comments: 4
Kudos: 36





	1. innocence

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ursa lives a life of unrestricted freedom full of happiness on her home island of Hama. She spends her days teaching dance, helping her family, and spending warm summer days swimming with her best friend Marah. Ursa is faced with uncertainty when her sister informs her that she has a visitor from the Fire Lord's emissary.

It was a blistering summer day as Ursa and her closest childhood friend, Marah, trudged through an overgrown forest trail. They looked to find relief from the heat in a swimming hole they’d discovered years ago. They batted twigs and branches out of their path; the sun beat down on their faces through the trees. Ursa already felt a twinge of sunburn on her fair cheeks.

Marah had already begun to strip naked, tossing her robe to the side with little regard. Ursa snickered as she watched her friend, admiring her fearlessness when it came to possibly getting caught. Her friend’s dark hair was cropped shoulder length, revealing her tiny waist and protruding spine.

The girls were breathing heavy as they approached the nearby waterfall. Ursa watched beads of sweat drip down her best friends back, onto her backside and legs. Neither of them could wait for the sweet relief that would come from taking a dip on a sweltering day like this. For years since they had discovered it as children, the young women would make the journey through the shrubbery to dive into the pool. It was a secret they wouldn’t dare tell anyone; except when they’d occasionally bring one of Ursa’s sisters.

Marah was fully nude when she began climbing the steep path to get up to the top of the waterfall. Ursa cackled at the sight, undoing her own robe and pulling a few tagalong twigs from her hair. Marah was Ursa’s counterpart; while Ursa was reserved and calculating, Marah was wild and unpredictable. Throughout their lives, they had balanced each other.

“Jump with me!” Marah sang, her toned body glistening in the sunlight.

“Absolutely not,” Ursa sang back, shuddering as she dipped a toe in the water. She knew it would feel wonderful, especially on a day like today. But she wanted to submerge herself slowly. She gasped when Marah flipped forward into the water, and it followed with a huge splash.

“Oops,” her friend met her gaze with a devilish smile when she surfaced. Ursa braced herself as she entered the pool, splashing Marah before letting herself fall underneath the water. She felt bubbles stream from her nose and up to the surface, the cool water felt amazing against her face. She breached the surface for a breath, and swam to meet her friend at the center. Marah’s arms were outstretched, wrapping them around Ursa’s neck when she swam closer. Their foreheads pressed together, both taking solace in each other's presence. The two women were overwhelmed with the responsibilities that had come with entering young adulthood - for once, it felt great to experience weightlessness in this place hidden from the outside world.

Ursa let herself float on her back, feeling wonderfully exposed. The water was so clear she could see her long legs extended before her, her toenails glistening as her toes flexed. Her hair floated around her face, squinting as she looked at the blue sky peeking out from behind the trees above her. She lived a privileged life; her days were spent helping her family around the home and teaching dance class at her local academy, while Marah was training to be a master bender in the Fire Nation army. It could still get overwhelming; she was grateful for these peaceful moments with her best friend.

“Are you serious, Ursa?” a familiar voice snapped at her from above the water. Ursa returned to treading, shading her eyes as she looked off to see who was addressing her. Her older sister, Tita, clenched Marah’s robe in her hands. Her sister looked paler than usual, and was clearly flustered.

“Serious about what?” Ursa jostled, her head poking out of the water as she swam towards her sister. Her sister’s face didn’t soften. “What’s wrong, Tita?”

“Mom needs you,” Tita began collecting Ursa and Marah’s belongings. “You need to get dressed.”

“Just tell her I’m out!” Ursa rolled her eyes. “She’ll understand.”

“It’s urgent, actually,” her sister’s eyes remained downcast as she pulled Ursa’s underwear off the branch with disdain.

Ursa sighed, beckoning to Marah to join her.

“I’m having fun!” Marah exclaimed, attempting to splash Tita. She was met with a glare. “Lighten up, Ti!”

“C’mon, Mar,” Ursa made a splash as she rose out of the water. Tita scanned her sister up and down - Ursa could feel her judgement searing through her.

“What if someone found you?” she hissed at both of them as she immediately rushed to help Ursa dry off. “What would someone think of two noblemen’s daughters  _ skinny dipping  _ in broad daylight?”

“I think they’d like the view too much to say a word!” Marah stepped confidently beside them as Ursa giggled. She shook her wet hair out onto Ursa’s older sister.

“Knock it off!” Tita recoiled as she tried to brush the droplets off her dress. “You girls need to hurry.”

“What’s going on, Tita?” Ursa held up her hair as Tita helped her clasp her brassiere. “I haven’t seen you this upset since that komodo rhino went rogue and crashed your wedding.”

Marah let out a belly laugh, reaching over to smack Ursa’s thigh. Tita pulled Ursa’s dressings especially tight, her lips pursed. Her sister was a stout woman with a beautiful round face and soft golden eyes. She had a curvy body from her recent pregnancy, her face still glowing. Tita had always been there to keep Ursa and her younger sister in line; it was a thankless job in her eyes, but she adored her sisters. She looked after them to her own detriment.

“I wish you would tell me what the matter was,” Ursa followed behind her sister as they made their way back to the trail.

“It’s a long walk to this spot you both like, you know,” Tita said curtly, brushing a strand of hair that had fallen from her bun out of her face. The sun was beginning to fall, shades of pink and orange decorated the sky. “It’s hot too. If you were at home catching up with your chores, it might have been a bit easier for me to fetch you.”

“Tita-”

“I have so much going on,” Tita continued, sounding quite out of breath. “With the baby, keeping up with the house, with my own responsibilities. It would be a dream if I didn’t have to look after you both as well.”

Ursa shook her head and looked to Marah with a questioning look. Her older sister was a bit uptight, but right now she was acting unusual.

“You don’t have to look after us,” Ursa said softly, catching up with Tita and putting a hand on the small of her back. Her sister paused in her tracks, turning her face away. Ursa and Marah stepped back, allowing her time to compose herself.

“You have a visitor,” Tita slowly turned to face them. The girls immediately crowded to her side when they realized her eyes were tinted red from crying.

“I don’t understand who could be visiting me that would make you this upset,” Ursa’s brow furrowed, rubbing her sister’s soft arm over her sleeves.

“It’s a diplomat from the Royal Family,” Tita looked up at her sister, tears once again forming in her eyes. Ursa cocked her head in disbelief.

“That doesn’t make any sense,” she folded her arms across her chest. “Why would they want to speak with me?”

Tita groaned, turning back to the trail.

“You know why,” she was already starting to get out of breath.

“I thought they were only interested in you,” Ursa stumbled over a root, leaning forward so she could see her sister’s face. “And Prince Iroh.”   
  


“I had an excuse,” Tita glanced at her sister before looking down at the trail once more. “You know that, Ursa.”

Years ago, an emissary from the Royal Family had approached Ursa’s family asking if Tita would have Prince Iroh’s hand in marriage. The Fire Sages had predicted that it would be a powerful marriage with a strong bloodline, with Tita’s grandfather being Avatar Roku. Although it was unheard of to turn down a Royal Family member’s marriage proposal, Tita suffered from intense seizures; her family made the case that she couldn’t be away from her home island. It would be dangerous to take her away from the people who had cared for her all her life; family members and healers who knew how to treat her. Most importantly, childbirth would be high risk for someone with her condition; it may not fare well for a future heir. The emissary hadn’t put up a fight when they had made a case for Tita; strangely, the Royal Family didn’t contact them any further afterwards. Ursa’s family assumed they understood the risk, and had let it go. Tita was instead married to a local teacher, and had a high risk but successful pregnancy. Ursa had made the silent assumption they wouldn’t return. It broke her heart to even think of leaving her family; she didn’t care for nobility.

“Prince Iroh has gotten married since then,” Ursa was working through the situation in her head. “That only leaves…”

“Prince Ozai,” Marah piped up.

“It can’t be,” Ursa muttered under her breath, waving her hand submissively. “That can’t be why they’re here.”

“You’re in denial, Ursa,” Tita turned again to face her sister.

“Maybe they just want you to teach your dance moves on the mainland,” Marah shrugged as the two sisters met her with a blank stare, whispering a soft  _ sheesh  _ when she realized her joke hadn’t been received well.

Tita was biting her trembling lower lip, eyes overflowing as she wrapped her arms around Ursa’s waist, burying her face into her torso. “What if they take you  _ away  _ from me?” she cried out in muffled sobs. Ursa looked to Marah, taking a step back from her sister.

“I need to talk to mom,” Ursa said sternly, turning again towards the path and picking up her pace.

“Ursa,  _ wait!” _

The girls followed her, trying to keep up with her as she furiously rushed home.

XxX

The island of Hama was known for its flourishing agriculture; with one of the most fertile soils in the Fire Nation, it produced many of the staples the nation depended on. Ursa was grateful to live on an island untouched by industrialization; when she had visited other islands, she would gawk at the enormous factories, turning her nose up at the muddied waters and pollution. She couldn’t imagine ever leaving her home. The people were all fond of one another, the small population making it easier for everyone to care for their neighbor. There was plenty of greenery for her to adventure in; she had made so many happy memories with her sisters and Marah in the forest. Ursa had a passionate attachment to Hama, which only ignited her fury when she realized she might be leaving it.

Ursa was breathless when she arrived home, Tita and Marah were on her heels calling out her name behind her.

“Thank Agni, you’re back,” Ursa’s mother whispered hurriedly through the screen door, grabbing her by her wrist before she had a chance to confront her. Her mother, Nalela, was a tiny woman like Tita. Although she was petite, she commanded their home like a Fire Nation general. She was an intimidating woman who loved her three daughters fiercely. Even though Ursa towered over her mother now, she held an immense respect for her. Nalela led the trio into the master bathroom, where a bath had already been drawn. She had already begun barking demands to Tita and Marah, pawing at Ursa’s robe trying to undress her. Ursa’s younger sister, Elohn, was pouring essential oils into the steaming water. She looked to her sister with excitement.

“Did Tita tell you?” she beamed. “You’re going to be a princess.”

“Elohn,” Nalela said sternly. “Stop that. Help your sister get in the tub.”

“What’s going on, mom?” Ursa pressed as she was stripped and lowered into the bath.

Nalela sighed deeply, lifting up one of Ursa’s legs so she could scrub off the caked dirt.

“Where have you  _ been? _ ” her mother picked off a leaf that had attached itself to Ursa’s shin with slight disdain. She looked to Tita and Marah, who looked just as disheveled as her middle child. “Where have  _ all  _ of you been?”

“Mom, don’t change the subject,” Tita spoke up, stretching to grab hair pins from a cupboard above the tub. She kneeled next to Elohn, taking the comb from her sister's hand. She began to take her aggression out on Ursa’s hair.

“ _ Ow _ ! Gentle, Tita!” Ursa exclaimed, pulling away from her sister. Nalela smacked her thigh with the long handle of the brush she’d been using.

“ _ Shh _ !” her mother hissed under her breath. “We have guests.”

Ursa rested both of her forearms on the tub, leaning over the tub to look at her mother. Nalela huffed, meeting her daughter’s gaze demurely.

“I  _ need  _ to know what’s going on before I meet with the diplomat, mom.”

Nalela looked off to the side, wrapping a piece of hair around her finger as she tried to find the words for her daughter.

“Tita probably filled you in on who exactly is here to see you,” Nalela started off slowly. The pair nodded, Ursa leaning back on the tub so Tita could continue brushing her hair. “And you’ve probably come to your own conclusions. The Royal Family is looking to marry their second son.”

“I understand that,” Ursa bemoaned. “When we didn’t hear from them after dad turned down their offer, I thought they were done with us. I thought he took care of it.”

Nalela paused from scrubbing dirt off Ursa’s forearm.

“Your grandfather Roku did everything in his power to protect us from The Royal Family. There’s no denying a convergence between a Royal Family member and a descendent of the Avatar would be incredibly powerful. When the diplomat approached us years ago asking for Tita, we had a valid reason to turn him down. But Firelord Azulon is aware we have three daughters…”

“Which dad took care of. So we can stay on the island, together.”

“Ursa,” her mother’s voice cracked. “It’s just not that simple.”

Ursa’s lower lip trampled as she gripped the edges of the bathtub, pushing herself up. Her long legs swung over the edge, and she snatched a towel. 

The women crowded around her, Nalela grabbed her daughter's wrist.

“You need to let me explain,” her mother said with a frantic whisper. “The Royal Family threatened your father. They let Tita go, but they knew he might try and find an excuse for you. If we don’t comply, we could lose everything. Our punishment would be severe.”

Ursa looked away, so filled with anger she couldn’t meet her mother’s gaze.

“How could you lie to me like that? When you knew this whole time?”

“To be fair, he did kind of drop in unannounced,” Elohn piped up. Ursa couldn’t help but shoot her younger sister a dirty look for defending her mother.

“I wanted to tell you!” Nalela pleaded. “But we wanted to wait for the right time. I wasn’t expecting them to drop in so soon. I wasn’t prepared.”

Ursa was silent, her arms crossed over her bare chest. The awkwardness was tangible, the only sound being made was the water droplets meeting the floor.

“I know this is a confusing and unfair situation,” Nalela continued. “But if we don’t comply with the Royal Family, all of our lives could be in danger.”

Her daughter was intelligent to know this to be true; even though the rebel in her wanted to take Marah’s hand and run far away into the night. She let out a shuddered breath, again lowering herself into the tub. The bathwater masked her flowing tears.

_____________________________________

The air around Ursa felt thick as her back was pressed against the hallway. She had lost the urge to cry; instead, all she could feel was rage towards her mother and father for lying to her.

“They’re ready for you, Miss,” a mousey faced attendant peeked from behind the corner.

Ursa closed her eyes and took a deep, steadying breath. She looked down as she entered the room, greeting the envoy and her father with a curt and precise bow.

“Greetings, Miss Ursa,” the emissary had a cool, sardonic tone. “My name is Minister Midek. Would you be so kind as to pour your father and I some tea?”

Ursa took a moment to observe him from below her lashes. He had a lean, expressionless face. His eyes watched her with such intensity, she felt she was about to be sentenced by a judge. Her eyes flitted to her father, who was also watching her with a concerned expression. It was a look she recognized; a face he made when he’d silently beg her not to act out. But Ursa knew better this time than to make a statement.

“It would be my honor,” she was surprised at how composed and soft her voice sounded, given she was still full of animosity. She knelt on the satin covered cushion in front of the table, lifting her sleeve to reveal her fair wrist; she and her sisters had learned this method from her mother. If you lifted your sleeve too high, you were deemed a whore. If you didn’t lift it enough, you were considered a prude. When entertaining, it was proper to meet somewhere in the middle of the two; nothing obnoxious, but just enough to catch the eye. She picked up the tea pot, pouring the tea Elohn had brewed into Minister Midek’s delicate cup.

“I apologize for dropping in unannounced,” his words filled the room. “I rarely have a reason to visit the island of Hama. But I was in the area, and the Firelord insisted I stop by to meet with you.”

Ursa nodded, a feigned smile on her lips as she moved to pour tea for her father. She didn’t dare look up.

“I’m sure your parents have filled you in on why I’m here,” he paused. Ursa realized that he was waiting for her to respond.

“Of course,” she spoke politely. He didn’t respond, Ursa mentally kicking herself when she again realized he wanted her to explain. “To speak about an alliance between Prince Ozai and myself.”

“Your sister missed out on the opportunity to be Crown Princess,” Minister Madik continued, as if she hadn’t spoken at all. “But you will be able to make up for her inability. Your father and I were only discussing the details. I’m here to make sure you’re a suitable match.”

Ursa once again nodded. Her eyes were downcast, hands folded in her lap. She let out an audible gasp when the emissary reached out to grip her chin. He turned her face to the left, his eyes burning through her. He leaned back, meeting her confused gaze with an arrogant grin.

“I’m sure Prince Ozai will be pleased with your appearance,” he smirked. Ursa feigned a soft smile like he was giving her a compliment, but her belly was hot with contempt. How could this entitled excuse of a man act so perverted in front of her own father? “But looks aren’t everything. How do you bide your time? When you’re not playing dancer at your local academy.”

“Ursa is a wonderful role model for the community,” her father broke his silence. “She cares deeply for her two sisters, and always upholds her assigned duties around our home. She’s always up-to-date on current events. She would make a wonderful addition to the Royal Family.”

The minister nodded, looking Ursa up and down again.

“How do you feel about becoming a wife to Prince Ozai?” he addressed her again. Ursa shook her head quickly, blinking. She was caught off guard. How was she supposed to respond to that?

“I’m sorry, I don’t understand.”

  
  
“It’s a simple question. How do you feel about it?”

Ursa glanced quickly at her father, who was giving her that same pleading look.

“It would be a great honor to become a member of the Royal Family.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Authors Note: Hey guys! I've always been fascinated by Ursa's story, and I wanted to dabble in my own story that doesn't involve the comics. I hope you enjoy it!


	2. little she-bear

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Ursa and her family attend the capital city New Years Celebration, where she's introduced to her future husband.

The New Year Celebration was one of Ursa’s favorite times of the year on her island. Festive scarlet decor adorned the streets; her own home was decorated with bright floral arrangements and luxurious cloth with embroidered birds - cranes for longevity, magpies for good fortune. On the day of celebration, her and her sisters would begin by bringing baskets full of cooked meats, steamed dumplings, and sweets to the island elders. They would then return to help Nalela with their elaborate dinner - more dumplings, rice cake soup, and an elaborate pastry tower for their culinary centerpiece. It was a time to catch up with extended family and close friends; after dinner, Ursa and Marah would get drunk and walk through the streets of Hama before they’d sit and watch the magnificent pyrotechnics meant to scare Nian, the legendary lion monster spirit who was said to have risen from the sea and feast on human flesh many years ago.

Ursa’s sleepy smile warped into a straight line when she realized where she was the morning of this year’s celebration - the sun beamed through her window, rising over the Caldera City. Today, she would be grieving the memories of New Years in the island of Hama; the Royal Family had invited them to their celebration, where she would be formally introduced to her future husband. It had been six months since she received the message from Fire Lord Azulon’s emissary that she had been selected as Prince Ozai’s betrothed. Their wedding was to take place within the next year; until then, Ursa would continue teaching dance on her island and helping her parents around the house as she had before. She had forgiven Nalela for keeping the information about the Royal Family’s proposal from her; viewing her father as the main culprit, she still refused to excuse him.

Ursa’s father, Helohn, was a burly man with a weathered face. He had served as an esteemed General in the Fire Nation before he was discharged due to a severe head injury during battle. Ursa was a young girl when her father was in recovery, his head patched with bandages while he lay in a coma. She would curl up with her father during the evening, hoping her warm, tiny body would remind him of his family that needed him. She still remembered the day when her mother came in and dropped her pitcher of water, letting it shatter on the floor. Her father's eyes had opened - and he had begun to heal quickly. He now served the Fire Nation as a revered consultant. Helohn’s betrayal to Ursa had driven a deep rift between them. Although Nalela had pleaded with her to forgive him, Ursa still refused to speak to him.

Marah had tried her best to keep Ursa’s mind off things. She would teach her friend different self defense moves she had learned in training that didn’t require Ursa to use firebending; she would also begrudgingly allow Ursa to use her as a dance partner when she was demonstrating for her students. At night, they’d help Nalela around the house or spend the evening out with friends Marah had met in training. Sometimes they would pull out a piece of parchment distributed to the academy that Ursa kept in a drawer beside her bed. It had been printed with a portrait of her future husband and brother-in-law; Prince Iroh sat with a cup of tea in his hand, looking content, while Prince Ozai stood behind him with a look of dissatisfaction. She would run her thumb over his face, wondering if she could grow to love this complete stranger. Today was the day she’d finally meet him.

Nalela brought her a cup of jasmine tea and breakfast; Elohn, Tita, and Marah had already begun preparing her bath. She was scrubbed clean, her hair pulled back with golden pins. Her mother helped her step into a stunning cream colored dress, that cinched under her bust and flowed in chiffon to her toes. 

The women tried to keep their day full of happy chatter, discussing what the Royal Palace’s celebration had in store for this evening. Elohn contemplated what Prince Ozai might be like, if he was as dreamy and romantic as the princes she had heard about in bedtime stories. Tita had wondered what the interior of the palace might be like; she couldn’t wait to return to her husband and describe the glamour to him. Marah pondered what alcohol might be served, and if any of her soldier friends would be attending. Ursa was reserved, staring at her glowing reflection in the ornate mirror as the women continued to tend to her makeup and hair.

As the sun had begun to set into a red, cloudless haze, there was a sudden knock on their door. Fire Lord Azulon had requested that Ursa and her parents meet with him before the celebration so he could be formally introduced to his soon-to-be daughter-in-law. The young woman contemplated jumping out the window before she followed her parents from the villa outside.

XxxX

Ursa had wanted to walk to the palace from their villa, and was met by a belly laugh from one of the soldiers that had come to fetch them. That wasn’t proper - they would be taken to the palace by carriage. Another one would be sent to collect her sisters closer to the start of the celebration.

Tita and Elohn gripped their sister tightly before saying their farewells, wishing her luck. Marah whispered a soft  _ give ‘em hell  _ in her ear before kissing her softly on the cheek. Ursa gripped her mother's hand tightly on their way up to the palace. 

The young woman couldn’t help but gawk at the magnificent sight as the gates opened before them. Red paper lanterns lined the brick road, still waiting to be lit. Elaborate red posters with Fire Nation idioms stitched in gold were hung beside them; Ursa recognized “ grind an iron bar down to a fine needle” was printed on one, which was an expression her mother used to say. It meant to persevere in a difficult task.  Ursa had been to the capital city once before as a child; when she peered up at the glimmering palace years ago, she never dreamed that she might one day call it home.

If Ursa were to hate this new life, at least it would be a magical prison. When she had stepped out of the carriage (making a point not to take her father’s hand), she focused in awe at the grand structure before her - an intricate crimson tower lined with shimmering gold along its multiple tiers. The exterior was decorated with more red lanterns and elaborate paper cut-outs for the holiday. She again gripped at her mother’s arm as they were escorted into the palace, towards the throne room. The guards separated for the family outside of the doors, Ursa’s jaw dropping slightly as she admired their large golden plates.

When her family entered the throne room, Ursa’s eyes flitted up briefly to look at the flames that separated her and the Fire Lord. The tall orange flames were intimidating, hiding his presence save his outline. Ursa’s knees hit the dazzling marble, she splayed her arms in front of her in a deep and formal bow. Her forehead pressed against the polished floor, listening to her parents soft and steady breath beside her. She was to wait for approval before she was to rise and face the Fire Lord, but she heard none. Instead, her stomach dropped as she heard the echo of footsteps from his direction.

“General Helohn,” Azulon addressed her father. “Surely you and your beloved wouldn’t be so ignorant to neglect teaching your daughter a proper bow.”

Ursa’s heart skipped a beat when she realized the Fire Lord was standing before her. Her forehead was clammy against the cool floor, her heartbeat rapidly pounding in her ears.

“You bow like a peasant, girl,” Ursa tried to contain a whimper when he nudged her fingers with a russet dress shoe. Azulon’s voice was silky, but tense. “Spread your fingers, and only touch the floor with your fingertips.”

Ursa adjusted her position, her arms and shoulders starting to cramp. Her ab muscles braced when she felt a flat, firm hand on her shoulder blade.

“Now lengthen your arms. And puff your chest to flatten your back.”

She obeyed, hearing a gruff  _ hmph  _ which she interpreted as approval.

“Rise, Ursa.”

Ursa sat back on her knees, eyes downcast. Her heart continued to beat against her chest when the Fire Lord extended his hand to assist her to her feet. She glanced quickly to her parents, who were still positioned in a humble bow.

“Minister Midek informed me of your beauty,” his thumb and pointer finger extended to grip her chin, forcing her eyes to meet his. She recognized his face instantly, seeing as it was displayed on a tapestry in every classroom at her school. His hair was dark, with high cheekbones and narrow golden eyes. She could feel the heat rising to her cheeks as he observed her with an intense stare; it felt predatory. She imagined this is what prey must feel like before it was ripped apart by a tigerdillo. “But looks aren’t everything. I know the Island of Hama may have lower standards for manners, but you’ll have to learn proper conduct if you’re to marry my son. Understand the reason I invited you here was to be certain you were a suitable fit.”

Ursa acknowledged his words with a slow, affirmative nod; she wouldn’t realize that he’d made a dig at her island until later. She was still processing his words when he instructed her parents to rise. She didn’t feel his gaze leave her until he had turned to her father. A smile had cracked on his lips, and he surprised Ursa when he bowed low to him.

“General Helohn,” he said warmly. “It’s an immense pleasure to see you. I hope you’re faring well.”

The Fire Lord greeted her mother with a gentle kiss on the back of her hand, continuing to exchange formalities between both of her parents. Ursa couldn’t interpret what they were saying anymore, all she could hear was a mashed garble of words that became increasingly distant. She thought of her old home in Hama, her nights out with Marah, and how the celebration would be so different if she had remained at home. She had constantly been reminding herself that she needed to be brave, for her family and for her own wellbeing. But she despised change, and this was all still so new to her.

“Ursa,” Helohn called out to her, breaking her out of her spell. She met the Fire Lord’s gaze again, as he was intently studying her.

“The celebration should be starting. I’m eager to introduce you to my son.”

XxxX

Ursa clenched at her mother's robes as her family made their way towards the ballroom. Azulon and Ursa’s father were twenty steps ahead of them, their conversation out of earshot. Ursa theorized they might be discussing war strategies and the developing battle technology, as the men around her often liked to do. Normally, she’d be trying to keep pace with them; she loved to secretly listen in on discussion of current affairs that her father would have with other men in private.

Instead, she focused on the appearance of the corridor; large columns bordered the open area, the marble floor immaculately polished. Deep cleaning one's home was another New Years tradition upheld by the Fire Nation; Ursa could only imagine how overwhelming the task of cleaning an entire palace must be. Bamboo and pine decorated the walls, meant to draw in lucky spirits; peach blossom petals littered the carpet, matching the flowers that were delicately pinned in Ursa’s braids.

“This is incredible,” Nalela whispered to her daughter. Azulon and Helohn exited through a large passageway opened by two silent guards; Ursa’s eyes were downcast as they passed them, she could feel their eyes honing in on her through their masks. Nalela gasped as they entered the courtyard, clasping her hands together. Peach and plum blossoms were scattered throughout the garden, peonies and narcissus flowers bordered the cobblestone path they walked on. “I doubt you will miss us, living in a place like this.”

_ Of course I’ll miss you,  _ Ursa thought to herself, but didn’t think to say it aloud. She was focused on the Fire Lord and her father, who had paused a few steps ahead of them. Azulon had snapped to his right, his knees bracing and he methodically lifted two fingers to light the lanterns that bordered the walkway. Ursa heard him muster a gruff  _ that’s better,  _ mentioning to her father that no one ever met his standards when it came to decorating. He continued to set the pace as they made their way towards the left wing of the palace.

Ursa tightened her grip on her mother's robes as they neared the ballroom; she could hear a boisterous crowd, the voices overpowering the soft, classical music in the background.

“ _ Ursa, _ ” Nalela hissed under her breath. “Stop pulling on me like that. You’re going to make me trip.”

Helohn and Azulon separated, the Fire Lord bowing to Helohn before bidding farewell. He left to meet with a group of noblemen towards the end of the hall, leaving Ursa and her parents alone with the two guards that stood in front of the tall curtains that led to the ballroom.   
  
“We’ll be waiting for you inside,” Nalela squeezed her daughter's hand one last time.

_ “General Helohn and Nalela of Hama!”  _ an immense and leathery voice of an announcer introduced her parents before they stepped through the curtains.

“Don’t be afraid,” Nalela looked to Ursa and gave her a reassuring smile. The young woman took a brief moment to admire her mother’s stark beauty as she turned to link arms with her father. She had a face of porcelain, barely aging in the time she had spent raising Ursa and her two sisters; sometimes she would be mistaken for their fourth sister rather than their mother. She watched as Nalela looked up to her father, the pair smiling at each other before disappearing behind the curtain.

Ursa could feel sweat droplets building under her breasts and between her thighs; she bit her lip, her right hand wrapped firmly around her left to keep herself from biting her nails. She was left alone in the faintly lit hallway, all but for the two guards that shielded the doorway. Her heart throbbed in her ears, blood rushing to her face.

_ “Ursa of Hama!”  _ the announcer shouted from the other side.

The guards separated so Ursa could pass, she straightened her gown one last time before stepping out from behind the curtain. Her anxiety subsided when she was struck by the beauty of the auditorium; more lanterns were strung in elaborate patterns across the tall ceiling, illuminating everyone’s faces in a stunning golden glow. The crowd was dressed in cream and ivory, hardly taking notice of her, save a few curious faces amongst the sea of people.

Ursa hastily stepped down from the platform she was on, joining her parents at the front of the crowd. An unfamiliar woman had joined her parents; a peculiar but beautiful lady with the lower half of her face hidden by a steel fan. Although the woman had the typical Fire Nation features - almond eyes, high cheekbones, a sloped nose - her hair was silver instead of dark, her skin was olive rather than fair. She stood out amongst the crowd, lowering her fan to reveal a faint smile on her painted lips; she seemingly admired Ursa in return. Ursa let out a small  _ oh!  _ as she noticed the magnificent crown placed in her top knot.

“Crown Princess!” she exclaimed, bowing before the woman with a closed fist and open palm.

“Lady Ursa,” her voice was refined and melodious. She placed her hand on Ursa’s shoulder as she introduced herself, “Hatsumomo, wife of Crown Prince Iroh. I was just speaking to your parents - they are lovely.”

Ursa looked proudly from her parents back to Hatsumomo, nodding in affirmation.

“Thank you, Princess. It’s so wonderful to meet you.”

Hatsumomo opened her mouth to say something in return, but a shatter had erupted from the corner of the room. The crowd burst into a low gasp, the music came to a screeching halt. Ursa snapped her head to look at the commotion, standing on her toes to see what had happened. Hatsumomo had already left to investigate, her robes billowing behind her. A dark haired, fair man stood hunched over in the center of the crowd, eyes blinking slowly in shock and mouth agape. A shorter, stouter gentleman was buckled beside him, pinching his nose as he roared with laughter. Ursa immediately recognized them from the portrait she kept in her drawer; she had to admit it had been accurate. Crown Prince Iroh emanated a vibrant and pleasant energy, while his younger brother appeared closed off and irritated. A young bus boy stood behind them, eyes welling with tears as he looked between the two of them, gripping a drink tray with white knuckles. Glass and alcohol lay in a puddle on the floor, simultaneously dripping down Ozai’s formerly pristine robes. Ursa watched in abject horror as Fire Lord Azulon abandoned his conversation between a circle of noblemen, storming with clenched fists to the center of the chaos his sons had created. She heard him whisper a gruff  _ unbelievable  _ under his breath, steam coiling from his nose and mouth.

“You have humiliated me for the last time,” Ursa couldn’t tell which son he was pointing at, or if he was addressing both of them. His hand waved towards the musicians in the corner of the ballroom, the performers looking to each other in confusion before they began to play again. The crowd’s silence shifted into a soft murmur, conversations resuming with the occasional glance at the two brothers. The voices of the royal family had been drowned out, and Ursa was curious to get a better view of her future husband. She inched closer to where they stood, her mother touching her arm before she left.

“I just want to get a better look,” Ursa smiled at her mother with assurance, placing her hand on hers before parting.

She edged closer, listening to what sounded like a heated argument between the royal family.

“Tell me why I can’t leave you two alone for five minutes without you embarrassing me?” Azulon’s finger was pointed deep into the center of Ozai’s chest, the young man looking bewildered as Iroh was still pink in the face from laughing.

“This  _ isn’t  _ my fault, father,” Ozai’s hands were raised in defense, glancing at his older brother with disdain. Ursa continued to observe with slight amusement as the busboy slowly retreated, the diversion allowing him to escape to the staff quarters. Ozai was stuttering, attempting to explain that during an argument Iroh had shoved him into the busboy, causing him to spill the drinks and cause a scene. Ursa couldn’t read Azulon’s expression as the prince tried to explain what was going on, but she could see that his arms were crossed, and could feel his anger almost radiating from him. The Fire Lord raised his hand dismissively at Ozai, turning his attention to Iroh for an explanation.

“Father,” Iroh was boisterous, face still pink from laughing. “We were just playing around. We meant no harm.”

Even though Ursa strained herself to hear what else was exchanged, she couldn’t hear over the crowd as the noise returned to its normal volume. Azulon had exchanged a few words with Iroh, nodding to him before turning away and placing his hand on Ozai’s shoulder. Ursa noticed that his knuckles were white from gripping his son's shoulder so tightly. He whispered something in Ozai’s ear, the prince narrowing his eyes and shooting Iroh an unsettling, resentful look. The Fire Lord left the two brothers behind to join a group of men clustered in front of the bar, Ursa watching in amazement as Hatsumomo directed the servants to clean up the mess that had been made, hardly breaking a sweat as she also commanded them to fetch Iroh and Ozai clean robes.

“Surely you must get tired of cleaning up after Iroh’s messes, Hatsu,” Ozai rolled his eyes, arms crossed over his chest.

“You both exhaust me,” Hatsumomo swatted at Ozai’s arm with her fan. She pulled Ozai to the side, beckoning Iroh to join her. She pointed at the Crown Prince, lost in another fit of laughter, with her fan. “ _ Stop  _ antagonizing your brother.”

“It’s not my fault he’s so quick to anger,” Iroh was wiping a tear from his eye, his cheeks rosy. “I may have started it, but I was also just having fun.”   
  
Hatsumomo looked to her husband sternly, briefly softening with an underlying look of amusement. She quickly snapped her head back to her brother-in-law, who was only in a long sleeved linen shirt and pants as a servant removed his top layer of soiled clothing to replace it with a new robe.

“You’re making a fool of yourself in front of your future wife,” she pressed the tip of her fan to his chest.

“What are you talking about?” he matched her defensive attitude.

Ursa gasped as Hatsumomo lengthened her body to reach for her, the woman still glowering at Ozai, pulling her into the royal’s family circle. Ursa didn’t even think she was in Hatsumomo’s line of vision.

“Ursa, of Hama,” Hatsumomo introduced her, irritation plaguing her voice. Ozai shot Hatsumomo one last nasty look before meeting Ursa’s fixed stare. She fought the urge to look down at the floor, his gaze was so intense she found it hard to keep, but she persisted. He was handsome, significantly taller than Iroh, with narrow golden eyes and high cheekbones. Ursa’s stomach braced like she was preparing for a punch, her face felt hot. She once again bowed low, puffing her chest forward so her back would remain straight.

“A pleasure to meet you,” her voice sounded more feeble than she would have liked. She once again met his gaze, praying something would break this uncomfortable silence.

The Crown Prince was still trying to catch his breath, punching Ozai squarely in the bicep as he steadied himself. Ozai gripped his arm, his face pink with shock and embarrassment as Iroh moved to gently kiss Ursa’s hand.

“Forgive my brother,” he said snidely, hiccuping. Ursa caught notes of alcohol on his breath. “He isn’t the best at introductions. I think he was just mesmerized by your striking beauty.”

Ursa looked to the ground bashfully.

“You’ll also have to forgive my husband for being such a flirt,” Hatsumomo rolled her eyes at her husband, before smiling at him softly; a look of love, endearment. Ursa wondered if their marriage had been arranged as well. “If you’ll excuse us, I need to sober my husband up before he causes more of a scene.”

The Crown Princess wrapped her arm around Iroh’s, leading him outside of their circle; they vanished into the clamorous group of people surrounding them.

“You’ll get used to them,” Ozai stood close to Ursa with his arms still folded, looking after his brother and sister-in-law with an icy look. Ursa had to resist the urge to wipe the sweat on her forehead; she couldn’t tell if it was building due to her anxiety or Ozai’s radiating body heat. 

“This is a beautiful party,” she attempted to change the subject.

“I’m certain you’ve never seen a party like this on your island,” Ozai sneered. Ursa watched painfully as a server passed with a tray full of shots, wishing she lacked the manners to take one. “My father has a thing for interior design and party decorations.”

“Well, he has a gift,” Ursa couldn’t help but giggle at the thought of the Fire Lord having a talent for decor.

“Ursa!” she thanked Agni as she heard the husky, familiar voice of her friend Marah. She turned to embrace her friend, who was dressed in the traditional Fire Nation light armor; a combination of shoulder pads and an armored collar over a sleeveless robe. Her mousey hair was pulled into a high ponytail, her eyes painted with a rust-colored war paint. She drew a sharp breath of air when she recognized Ozai, who was looking at the pair quizzically. She clasped her flat hand around her closed fist, hinging at the hips to bow low. “Prince Ozai! What an honor.”

“Lieutenant?” he pointed at the silver brooch on her left lapel, a jeweled bow and arrow that represented her position in the army.

“Oh!” she blushed, looking down to touch her lapel then back at the prince. “Yes. Lieutenant Marah, of Hama. Ursa is my friend.”

“We’re best friends,” Ursa nervously tittered as she wrapped her arm around Marah’s. She could smell alcohol on her friend's breath.

“May I steal her for a moment?” Marah asked, a bold question to pose to the Fire Lord’s son. “I have someone I want her to meet… Unless you’d like to join us.”

Ursa looked to Marah, then to Ozai. She hesitantly moved to wrap her arm around his.

“He’d love to join us,” she met her betrothed’s gaze with a hopeful smile.

XxxX

Ursa had been inside for so long she didn’t realize how dark it had gotten when they accompanied Marah outside. The opulent, outdoor gazebo Marah had led them to was perched over water, connected to land by an arched bridge framed by more lanterns. Stars littered the sky, the palace strangely unaffected by the light pollution like the rest of the capital. Ursa peered behind her to look at the party they had left before stepping behind the net curtains that protected the structure from pests. A boisterous group of young soldiers and women greeted them; the women were dressed in floral kimonos with painted faces. Nalela had told Ursa about women like this when she was young; girls who weren’t born into nobility but desired wealth and security, would hang around gatherings such as this to meet upstanding men and generals they’d eventually wed. She recognized a few of the soldiers from the time she used to spend with them on her island, noses pink from the buzz of alcohol. Ozai had wasted no time before he began to schmooze with the higher ranking men that sat around the center table, leaving Ursa and Marah to their own devices. Ursa’s shoulders felt a little lighter, now that she had escaped the stuffy crowd inside the palace.

“Ursa,” Marah handed her a cup of tea and honey, spiked with a dark rum Ursa immediately recognized. This was her favorite drink on her old island, and she began to sip it perhaps too hastily. “This is Lieutenant Zhao - we met in our basic training.”

Ursa bowed to the lieutenant, acknowledging his sharp features, a face framed with traditional Fire Nation sideburns and a tight top knot. A petite, pretty woman sat on his lap, making a face when Zhao reached out to kiss the back of Ursa’s hand. She had to resist the urge to pull away when he had touched her, an uneasy feeling settling in her stomach.

“Ursa,” he said her name with wonder, like he was pondering on it. He looked to the woman that accompanied him, his arm wrapped around her waist. “Do you know what that means?”

The woman rolled her eyes at him.

“Little she-bear,” Zhao buzzed like he had stated one of the most interesting facts in the world. Ursa nodded her head in feigned interest as he explained the origins of her name, pretending she didn’t already know that her name had originated in the stars and constellations. She kneeled on one of the cushions opposite Zhao and Marah, innocently sliding her cup of tea and rum in her best friend’s direction to show it was empty. She was rarely a big drinker, but she wasn’t sure if she’d be able to make it through this evening without a little liquid encouragement.

“I’ve told you about Zhao before, Ursa,” Marah said excitedly when the lieutenant concluded his tale. She leaned over to whisper in her direction, like she was breaking a major secret to her. “He’s been training with  _ Admiral Jeong Jeong! _ ”

Ursa nodded, looking between the two and taking another sip of her drink. It was like a hug; sweet, warm, and resting easily in her belly. Jeong Jeong was an esteemed fire bender, a prodigy. Ursa wasn’t even sure if he was real, or just a myth to motivate Fire Nation soldiers to work harder so they might one day train with a master such as him.

“It’s Marah’s dream to learn from Admiral Jeong Jeong,” Ursa said to Zhao. “If she hasn’t told you that already. It’s all she ever talks about.”

“You’re not missing out on much,” Zhao drawled to Marah. “He’s mediocre, at best.”

“How could you  _ say  _ that?” the lanterns around Marah flared slightly as she spoke with passion. “It’s any fire bender’s dream to learn from him. You just take him for granted, because you can learn from anyone you want.”

It was a known fact that female benders could never learn from masters; a strict law passed by Fire Lord Sozin years ago. Instead, female soldiers were trained in archery and healing. Fighting in combat as a woman was unfathomable.

“I spent the first six months of my training focusing on breathwork,” Zhao shook his head dismissively. “Consider it a blessing you don’t have to learn from him.”

Marah huffed at his entitlement, kneeling on a cushion next to Ursa as she poured more drinks for the table.

“Zhao is too short-tempered to play with fire,” a young man with wired glasses and a high ponytail called to him; Ursa recognized him as Lieutenant Ren, a man she had a crush on years ago. “Jeong Jeong knows if you did anything other than breathwork you’d burn a whole forest down.”

Ren and another soldier bumped fists, the small group chuckling at the dig he’d made. Ren then told the soldiers the story of how Zhao had gotten kicked out of the Fire Nation Academy years ago; a known troublemaker, Zhao was a hotheaded teen that would challenge other students to an Agni Kai over frivolous things, once lighting the courtyard on fire in one of his duels. The lieutenant shook his head, eager to change the subject.

“Ozai and I have been great friends since we started training together as kids,” Zhao and Ozai slapped their palms together and hooked thumbs as he joined them, a strange handshake that Ursa figured was another thing shared only between men. Ozai wriggled to sit between Zhao and a slightly older, stout woman that had earlier introduced herself as Aika, the wife of a general Ursa hadn’t heard of. The woman who was perched on Zhao’s lap groaned at the shift in seating positions, and moved swiftly to join a few women and soldiers on the other side of the gazebo. The lieutenant hardly took any notice.

“We were so enthused by the Crown Prince’s wedding,” Aika chimed in. “It was a sight to behold. You should have seen it, Ursa. We’re  _ so _ looking forward to yours - Ozai is in desperate need of a wife to keep him grounded.”

Aika reached out to pinch Ozai’s cheek, the prince making an exasperated face before swatting her hand away.

“What was the first dance Princess Hatsumomo performed at her wedding?” Aika turned to ask the group of people who weren’t engaged in their own side conversations. “It was so beautiful… The Dancing Dragon? No. It was so incredible, but I can’t seem to remember the name.”

“Dance of the Eternal Flame,” Ozai piped up with disdain, his arms folded and his legs splayed out, rivaling Zhao and Aika’s personal space. He looked deep in thought, drink in hand as he focused on his bouncing left knee.

“Oh, yes!” Aika patted his thigh, looking back to Ursa. “Dance of the Eternal Flame. Have you heard of it?”

“I have,” Ursa said delicately. She had seen it performed once at a wedding ceremony, years ago. “It’s an ancient dance. I think it can be traced back to the Sun Warriors, just like The Dancing Dragon. But it’s only ever performed by a solo woman.”

“Ursa is an esteemed dance teacher on our island,” Marah said proudly to Aika and Zhao; Ozai didn’t seem to be paying attention. 

“Prince Ozai is well versed in the Dance of Seeri and Sai,” one of the lieutenants piped up, the group erupting in laughter save Ursa and Ozai; the Dance of Seeri and Sai was a risque partner dance, meant to tell the story of two star crossed lovers who were overcome with forlorn desire. The dance’s reputation was quite tarnished, usually performed in a rowdy party setting.

“She probably doesn’t know what that dance is,” Aika waved her hand dismissively at the soldier.

“Of course I know what it is,” Ursa rebutted. “It’s scandalous. Only performed by commoners.”

The band of soldiers erupted in a low gasp _ ,  _ Ursa’s stomach slightly dropping when she realized what she said was curved as an insult at her future husband. He cocked his head at her, moving his ankle to rest crossed over his knee. 

“That’s bold of you to insult commoners,” Ursa realized his voice was similar to his fathers; silky, threatening, could fill a room. “Seeing as you’re only one step above them.”

The soldiers broke out in a soft murmur, looking to Ursa for a response.

“You must look like a fool then,” Ursa felt especially daring after her last drink. “A prince marrying someone who’s only a step above a commoner.”

Zhao stifled a laugh, the rest of the soldiers snorting with laughter at her response. Ozai opened his mouth to respond, but was drowned out by the rowdiness of the other men. He sat back in his seat, his right foot resting on the table as he glowered at Ursa. She shrugged, holding his gaze as she sipped from her teacup.

Lieutenant Ren eventually stood up, beckoning for everyone to follow. The fireworks were going to start soon. The group groaned, some following behind him while Ursa and Marah hastily finished their drinks. 

Ozai pulled at Ursa’s wrist on their way back to the palace, his vice grip made her wince.

“You embarrassed me,” his voice was filled with defeat rather than confrontation, and Ursa couldn’t help but feel pity for him as they stepped inside.

“My mother always says I need to be better about holding my tongue,” she responded. The music inside had shifted into a waltz, a tune Ursa had known and loved since childhood. She was still squirming, trying to free herself from his grasp. “But sometimes I can’t help it. I’ll dance with you if you let me go.”

“I don’t want to dance,” he muttered, a twisted scowl on his face as he let her go to cross his arms over his chest. Ursa wondered to herself if it was exhausting for him to always be this difficult.

“Your future wife wants to,” she crooned at him sweetly, an attempt at making amends. He blinked at her, his expression unchanging. She pulled at his sleeve, emboldened by the rum she’d had earlier, leading him into the middle of the crowd. There was an open space in the center, where older couples moved with elegance and grace.

“This is already  _ so  _ humiliating,” Ozai’s palm was pressed to his forehead. Ursa pulled him towards her, a foot of distance between them, and clasped her hands with his. At first he was reluctant, but eventually followed. She moved her left foot backward in rhythm with the music, the prince’s foot sliding behind hers. She could tell through his swift, precise movements he was an excellent dancer. Their arms were pulled taut as she was spun out and away, the room melting in a sea of gold, cream, and ivory around her.

Ursa felt an immense freedom, the way she always felt when she danced. She audaciously placed her folded leg on Ozai’s thigh, he leaned back with her, placing a hand on her hip. She felt a connection to his breath, the sweat that was beading on her forehead didn’t bother her in the slightest. When the song had ended, the pair panted as they looked from each other to the audience they had attracted. Ursa realized they had caught Azulon’s attention as well, the heat rushing to her face so quickly her feet actually went cold. Displays of affection weren’t looked upon fondly, especially amongst a young couple without a chaperone. Azulon however was looking at her with an odd look of amusement, his eyes shifting to Ozai with irritation. Iroh stood behind him, stroking his beard, while Hatsumomo peeked behind her fan. Ursa glanced quickly at Prince Ozai, who was glowering at his father with disobedience.

  
Later that night, Ozai would pull at Ursa’s hand, dragging her behind an outdoor column before heatedly pressing her against the cold marble. Ursa recoiled, feeling trapped between his two hands, his gaze too intense for her. There wasn’t a moment of hesitation as he placed his mouth aggressively on hers, shuddering as there was a half growl, half moan from the back of his throat. Ursa closed her eyes as he deepened their kiss, struggling in a state of pleasure and panic. She sank her teeth into his lower lip, he gasped a multitude of curse words before pulling away from her. He looked at her in shock as a stream of blood trickled from his lip, dripping from his chin to his pristine robes. Ursa jolted as she heard the hiss of fireworks starting over the capital city, illuminating both of their faces when the coil exploded into a loud  _ boom.  _ She turned away from him, shaking her head softly as she barreled herself behind the crowd of people shouting as the New Year began. She thanked Agni as anything he might have said was drowned out by the celebration.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A/N: A few notes - I wanted to go more into Ozai’s background, emphasizing that he is Iroh’s kid brother that no one really pays much attention to, as it’s unlikely he’ll ever take the throne. Also, I don’t think Zhao will come up again in my fic but I wanted to establish the friendship they may have had - which is why Ozai may have allowed so many fuck ups from him in book one of ATLA.
> 
> I am thinking of a lot of ways to build up to Ozai’s craziness, but wanted to present him as human here where he and Ursa might share a few sparks. Narcissists don’t always show themselves right away.
> 
> Also random side note that I made Marah a soldier because I felt that even though the Fire Nation seemed to be pretty conservative, it seems as though they were pretty progressive when it came to allowing females to be soldiers. I noticed this in season 3. As always, thanks for the comments, bookmarks, and kudos! They're so appreciated.

**Author's Note:**

> Authors Note: Hey guys! I've always been fascinated by Ursa's story, and I wanted to dabble in my own story that doesn't involve the comics. I hope you enjoy it!


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